The Emerald Key

by Christopher Dinsdale

  Beth thought for a moment. “I know a nearby hiding place — if it’s still there. Follow me!”

  She led them away from the water and the warehouses to a pile of broken and discarded crates at the edge of an undeveloped field. They walked around to the back of the pile. Almost hidden was a narrow entranceway to the interior of the jagged mountain of wood. Dropping to her hands and knees, Beth crawled through the opening and disappeared from view. A couple of seconds later, her head reappeared, grinning.

  “Yep, the burlap sacks are still in here, just like I left them! They make a great sleeping mat.”

  Jamie studied the pile of crates. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  She tapped the crates affectionately. “They haven’t moved this pile of boxes in over a year. It’s one of my favourite hiding places. I can’t see it moving by itself anytime soon. Come on, Colin! I’m a mama bear and you’re the baby. Follow me into our cave!”

  Colin laughed and together they growled and scurried on all fours into the makeshift bear cave. Beth glanced over her shoulder at Jamie, her face flashing concern and hope at the same time.

  “Good luck.”

  Jamie bent over. “Hopefully there will be two of us when I return. Keep an eye on that baby bear of ours.”

  “I will.”

  Jamie retraced his steps back through the warehouses. The stench had risen to an almost unbearable level by the time he’d circled around the final building and found the entranceway to the quarantine station. There were not one but three massive buildings stretching out towards the bank of the St. Lawrence. Guarding the fenced perimeter of the buildings was a company of armed servicemen. As Jamie approached, the soldier guarding the main gate stepped forward.

  “Good day, son,” he said, in English. “How can I help you?”

  “Are armed guards really necessary for a quarantine station?” asked Jamie. “Most are too sick to walk, let alone try to escape.”

  The soldier guffawed as if that was the funniest joke he had ever heard. “We’re not here to keep the sick imprisoned. We’re to keep the locals under control. There has been more than one threat to burn down the entire quarantine station along with the hundreds of sick inside. Wouldn’t want that to happen now, would we?”

  Jamie was stunned. “Are you serious? That would be mass murder!”

  “Some in town would claim the sick Irish have already committed mass murder on us Canadians. We’ve had over a thousand people die this year in Montreal alone of typhoid and cholera. Thousands more have died in the rest of the colony! So yes, considering it’s the immigrants bringing the sickness to Canada, some would rather not have any immigrants on our land, if you get my meaning. Have you just arrived here yourself?”

  “Actually, I am a new arrival, but I’m healthy.”

  “Can I see your papers?”

  Jamie passed him the papers Officer Keates had passed on to him before leaving the ship.

  “Everything seems to be in order.”

  “I’m looking for my brother who arrived in Montreal on a ship a week or two ago. Can you help me find him?”

  “Not me, but I can point you in the direction of someone who can. See that small building beside the next gate? There should be someone inside who can access the records of new arrivals.”

  Jamie thanked the officer and walked along the perimeter of the fence to the small administrative office building. As he made his way along the fence, he glanced over to the entrance of one of the quarantined buildings. He shuddered as he saw rows upon rows of the sick and dying. The lines of cots were full, so many of the quarantined simply made makeshift beds out of straw and lay on the floor. The pungent smell of death wafting from the fenced-in misery was mixed with the sobs, groans, and screams of the still living. He could see only a handful of brave nurses trying their best to care for the overwhelming number of quarantined immigrants.

  “Out of the way, boy!”

  Jamie stepped sideways as a large horse-drawn cart rumbled by. Behind the driver, the wooden cart was piled high with a mound of canvas-covered cargo. The cart hit a bump and a waxy arm suddenly dangled out over its wooden side. Jamie turned away, bent over, and took several slow, deep breaths, fighting with all his might not to be sick.

  “Ryan is still alive,” he whispered, fighting for control.

  He slowly straightened himself, took the final steps toward the office, and opened the door. At the far end of the office, a bespectacled bookkeeper was scribbling notes into a thick-bound book. A ring of stubbly grey hair crowned his intense face. He glanced up from his paperwork.

  “May I help you, son?”

  “I truly hope so,” replied Jamie. “I’ve just arrived from Ireland and I’m trying to track down my brother. He arrived in Montreal about two weeks ago.”

  The administrator stared at him over his spectacles. “And you believe he is here in quarantine?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure. All I know is that he arrived two weeks ago, and I thought quarantine would be as good a place as any to start looking for him.”

  “Well, let’s see what I can do. His name, please?”

  “Ryan Galway.”

  “And any other tidbits of information that might help me narrow down the search?”

  “I know he was on board the Carpathia.”

  The clerk’s eyebrows rose. “The Carpathia?”

  Something in his voice sent a shiver down Jamie’s spine. “Do you know of the ship?”

  “It ran into quite a severe storm during the crossing. I heard it’s being repaired here in Montreal before it can return to service.”

  “And the passengers?” asked Jamie, anxiously.

  The administrator removed his glasses and tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You should brace yourself for some disturbing news, Mr. Galway. It was not a good scene on board the Carpathia when it arrived in the port of Montreal. A quarter of the passengers had died at sea. Some were washed overboard by the storm. Many who did survive the crossing were placed in quarantine while in very poor condition. I’m afraid some of those people have already passed away. But let me check the records. Certainly there must have been a few passengers who were able to walk away from the crossing.”

  Jamie had to force himself to breathe as the old man shuffled through the files beside his desk.

  “Ryan Galway … that name seems familiar. There was an older man, an uncle, in here a couple of days ago looking for the same last name.”

  Jamie shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have an uncle here in Montreal. In fact, I don’t have any family in Canada, except for my brother.”

  “Strange. I could have sworn that was the name he enquired about. Galway, Galway.… Ah, here it is.”

  Finding the proper file, he flicked through the papers until his eyes came to rest on two attached sheets. He looked them over several times and then walked the file over to Jamie. He held it out for Jamie to inspect. The first was a death certificate with his brother’s name on it. The second was a letter that Ryan had in his possession from a priest at Limerick Abbey. Jamie felt his blood turn to ice. The old man placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, son.”

  Chapter 12

  Colin rubbed his eyes. “But I don’t want to go to sleep. Tell me another story about the baby bear and the moose. The moose is so funny!”

  “I think you’ve had enough stories for one night,” said Beth, tucking him in with a burlap sack.

  “Will you tell me another story tomorrow?”

  Beth kissed him on the forehead. “You bet I will. I will have lots of stories for you after we help Jamie find his brother. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you how Moose met the crafty old — Did you hear that?”

  Colin listened. “Hear what?”

  “I thought I heard something outside.”

  “Is it a bear?”

  “No. Bears don’t come into the city. You still have a lot to learn about Canada.”

  “What is
it then?”

  Beth hoped it wasn’t a police officer. “Stay here and don’t make a sound. I’ll go find out.”

  She put a finger to her lips and Colin responded by hiding his freckled face under a sack. Beth quietly crawled through the maze of boxes until she reached the secret entrance and peered out into the cool evening air. Something rustled to her right. Moving as slowly as she dared, Beth slid low to the ground and peered around a broken crate from the Hudson’s Bay Company.

  Only an arm’s length away was a tall man staring up at the cloudy night sky. The stranger had a cloth sack in one hand. Her shock quickly evaporated when she recognized the familiar dark silhouette. She leapt to her feet.

  “Jamie! Oh, it’s you. I thought it might have been an animal, a police officer, or even worse, an orphanage inspector! I told Colin that on my signal we would have to make a run for it, should the need arise. He’s been ever so good, little Colin. He first had a nap and since he woke up, I’ve been telling him stories that I had learned way back in —”

  Beth stopped when she realized there was something very wrong. Even in the dark, she could tell that Jamie’s eyes were red, hollow, and lifeless. He turned and she shivered when she realized that he was looking through her instead of at her. Instinctively, she reached out and wrapped her thin arms around him. She had seen that look too many times already in her short life.

  “I’m so sorry, Jamie.”

  After a moment, she backed up, tears trickling down her cheek.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “Sometimes they make mistakes, you know. I’ve seen them do it.”

  He shook his head slowly. “They had a personal letter of Ryan’s attached to the death certificate. He was the only one who could have had the letter. It had to have been him.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. “What do we do now?”

  It took a moment for Jamie to fight through the pain and organize his thoughts. “Do you know of a place where the captains of ships like to go after a long voyage?”

  “Most of the captains head down to the pub by the docks. I often went down there to see if any captains needed older orphans for crew. They mostly refused, thinking the orphans might be sick, and they didn’t want to infect the rest of their crew. It’s a scary place at night. It’s better to go down there during the day.”

  “I need you to take me there right now.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to track down the captain of the Carpathia.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re not going to do anything to him, are you?”

  “I’d be lying if the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”

  A tear spilled down Beth’s cheek. “Please don’t! I don’t want to see you go to jail, or worse, be killed!”

  He smiled half-heartedly. “Don’t worry. I’m a priest.”

  She took a step back. “Really?”

  “Yes, I am. And I won’t take you back to the orphanage. Being a priest also means that I won’t hit anyone. Besides, I can think of much better ways to deal with scum like the captain of the Carpathia. But right now, all I need to do is go talk to him.”

  She glanced down the darkened street. “So we’re going now?”

  He nodded. “Go get Colin.”

  Beth dove in among the boxes, blew out the tiny candle, and led Colin through the wooden maze back to Jamie. Colin was tired. but he held his tongue, sensing an anger in Jamie that he had never felt before from his friend. As they walked along, Jamie passed out two small loaves of bread to the ravenous children, which they hungrily ate. Beth led them through several dark alleys until they reached the river’s north bank.

  The long docks that jutted out into the dark waters of the St. Lawrence River wrapped themselves around the berthed ships like the giant tentacles of a wooden sea monster. The children carefully made their way through a hive of filthy men loading timber into an enormous ship. Jamie then spied a smaller ship behind the one loading lumber. Pieces of the deck had been removed and its long masts were lying horizontally on the quay beside the hull. He felt a flash of rage as he read the name on the bow. Carpathia. The ship of death.

  Across from the ships were a collection of several small, ramshackle buildings. Rough-looking men staggered out through the doors of the largest structure. They were holding on to each other for balance, and they threw slurred curses at the men who followed them out with crossed arms, watching them leave. A pair of women lurking in the shadows strutted up to the departing sailors and, putting their arms around the men’s waists, joined them in their weaving walk back toward a collection of cheap hotels. Jamie wondered whether Beth was right. Was it wise for him to take young children into such a shady establishment? Now he had no choice. It was better to stick together than for him to leave the children outside in such a rough area.

  They entered the noisy building from which the sailors staggered. Jamie gagged on the thick fog of tobacco smoke that filled the pub. Rude and raucous voices cut through the blue haze as a piano player banged away on an out-of-tune upright piano in the far corner. Several gruff sailors eyed Jamie and the children suspiciously as they stepped into the melee. Cautiously, Jamie made his way through the rough crowd, and after checking to make sure the children were right behind him, tracked down the bartender.

  “I’m looking for the captain of the Carpathia,” Jamie shouted over the din of the unsavoury customers.

  “Never heard of him or the ship.” The bartender shrugged.

  Jamie slid a few coins to the bartender. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I just want to ask him a few questions.”

  The bartender stared at Jamie for a few seconds then down at the children he had in tow. He shrugged and took the coins. “See the back table by the window? Black beard and cap. That’s Captain Jack Chamberlain. He sails the Carpathia.”

  The bartender walked down the counter to serve another customer as Jamie turned and sized up the table in the corner. Four men sat around the small round table, ales in hand. All were older, broad-shouldered and craggy-faced, but only one wore a cap, the captain. The captain of the Carpathia was leading the conversation, arms waving in amusement and voice booming like thunder. As Jamie got closer, he could make out some details of the story.

  “… and the wave, bigger than I had ever seen in my life, curled its ugly fangs above my bow. We went soaring up its face like we were going to be launched into the heavens itself! I tell you, it was the first time I had ever feared that the ship might actually flip nose over tail! Can you imagine the size of this wave? Then the crest came down on us in a torrent of white foam! Several of my best men were washed clear off the decks by the surge! I hung on to the wheel for dear bloody life and somehow survived as her bow finally slammed forward and we flew down the backside of the swell.”

  The conversation came to an abrupt halt as Jamie stepped up to the edge of the table. The men coldly stared at Jamie and the two children.

  “Are you Jack Chamberlain, the captain of the Carpathia?” asked Jamie.

  “What is it to you?” shot back a huge black-bearded man next to the captain.

  “My brother, Ryan Galway, died on the ship during your last crossing,” Jamie said, not taking his eyes off Captain Chamberlain.

  The other three burly men pushed their chairs back slightly and clenched their fists above the table where Jamie could see them. Their icy stares left no doubt that they were capable of killing. They had dealt with vengeful relatives before.

  Captain Chamberlain coolly raised his pipe to his mouth and took a puff. “Lots of people died on the crossing, lad. Shame about your brother.”

  “I’m not looking for trouble, Captain. I know I can’t get him back, but I’m in desperate need of one of his possessions. He had with him an old Celtic book. It was with him in a leather pouch when he boarded your ship in Cork.”

  Jamie detected a flicker of recognition before the captain’s face hardened once again.

  “I don’t
think I can help you, lad. I’m not a land-lubbin’ librarian.”

  His comrades relaxed slightly and gave a hearty chuckle at the captain’s joke. Jamie placed his hand on the table and let drop a handful of large coins. He pushed the money towards the captain.

  “This is all the money I have, Captain. It should buy you gentlemen at least a few more rounds before closing. Please, can you give me any idea of where that book might be?”

  The captain collected the coins then rubbed his thick beard in thought. “Now that I think about it, I seem to recall my first officer mentioning that he found an old leather-bound book among the unclaimed items after the voyage. He said he might take it down to a bookseller on St. James Street to see if it had any value. What happened after that, I have no idea. That’s all I can tell you, lad. Now get those snivelling children away from us. Who knows what diseases they may be carrying.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Jamie replied. “And one last thing. My brother, Ryan Galway. Can you tell me how he died?”

  “Galway?” the captain repeated, looking up to the smoky rafters. “I recall him now. He died early on, typhoid I believe, second week of the voyage. Buried him at sea.”

  Jamie took a moment to digest the news then nodded to the cold-eyed captain.

  “I saw your ship at the dock. Is it in for repairs?”

  “Nay, lad. The old girl is being decommissioned, or put to rest you might say. She’s too small to make good money doing the Atlantic run, so she’s being sold for scrap.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Jamie lied. “So does that mean you’re out of a job?”

  “Me?” Captain Chamberlain guffawed. “Out of a job? Never! In fact, I’ve been promoted to the captain of the Western Shipping Line’s newest ship! She’s due to hit the waters in the town of Prescott in a few days’ time. In fact, I’ve already insisted we name her the Carpathia II.”

  “Prescott? Isn’t that above the rapids?”

  The captain growled. “Give him a cigar! The lad knows his geography! It’s a new route the company wants to open to Lake Ontario. I’ll be taking the immigrants who disembark in Montreal onwards to the towns in Canada West. A very lucrative route it is, and they want their best manning the helm.”